Witch Risen: A Paranormal Adventure (Bad Tom Series Book 2) (19 page)

And then my phone rings. That's the end of me if the demon is still out there.

The tiny light dims and the silence is replaced by the sound of Gillian's voice. "All clear, Tom. You can come out now."

I hunch away from the sound. What if it's Eunice, mimicking Gillian as a lure? I won't follow a siren call.

"Tom? You can come out. It's safe."

I want out of here, and Cat wants away from the wet. But I'm still not sure.

"Tom? Are you afraid it's a trick? I see Cassie's tennis shoe prints all over the place out here in the mud. I recognize that tread. She's worn the same brand since grade school. So we know Anat was here. But it's not a trick. It really is me. Do you remember what you said in London? Do you remember why I followed you here when you wanted me to move to the colonies? You said I was the only one who could save you from yourself. I've never told anyone that. Maybe because I failed so spectacularly. I bet you haven't, either. But I'll always save you if I can. You know I will."

I'm convinced. Gillian would never have told Eunice that. I move through the tunnel as quickly as the darkness allows. When the black gives way to dim slats of gray light, I slip through the bars and look out into early dawn. The first blush of sunrise peeks across the tops of the trees in the east.

A bag comes down over Cat's head, placing me immediately back in darkness. I freeze. I'm caught. I get ready to tear the bag apart with my claws and fight for my life.

Then, Gillian's voice soothes, "Don't freak out, but we need to keep you under wraps until we figure out how Anat found you. So, please don't let Cat scratch and bite. It's for your own good."

She picks me up and cradles me to her shoulder inside the sack. I recognize Gillian's smell of patchouli and sandalwood. I decide not to tear at the bag right away. She says, "Just sit tight for a little bit longer. Natalie has the motor running."

She calls off toward the cabins, "Robert, I've got him."

I hear another set of footsteps fall in with us as I ride atop her ample bosom, her hand still holding me firmly to her shoulder. Just from the shape of her, I know it really is Gilly. Her softness and warmth is comforting after a night spent tensed for action in the cold and wet.

"Find him?" I hear Nat ask after we've trekked a while. "Good."

"Nat has a theory about how Eunice found you, Tom. We know no one could cast a working location spell, so it had to be something else. So, I'm going to set you down, but just stay put for a minute while she checks you out." She sets me down and only the tip of my tail betrays my annoyance with not getting as far away from where I last saw Eunice as possible. It flicks slowly up and down. But no one can see that through the bag.

I hear someone circling around me, breathing heavily. Who knows what Natalie's doing out there. I envision a tribal dance combined with a series of cheerleader jumps at the finale. She has her red purse with her, of course. In my version of the events, it flings out at odd angles as she gyrates.

When Nat finishes her assessment, which was probably much less fun to watch than what I imagine to amuse myself, she tells the others. "It has the distinct feel of a remote ride-along. Novice stuff. You know, faux warg. She didn't locate him so much as just figure out where he was from what Cat was seeing." The sound of her voice turns to me then. "Tom, I've got something that should prevent her from pulling the same trick again. So, I need to back you out of the bag but keep your head inside for just a while longer."

A tiny slit of daylight appears overhead until a set of hands comes down and lifts me up, backside first, and the bag's drawstring tightens around my neck. Under different circumstances, I'm sure Cat would be having a blast with the opportunity to get himself all tied up in knots getting into and back out of a big cloth bag. But this isn't one of those circumstances. The hands set me down on the dampish grass.

Natalie walks another set of circuits around me and mumbles under her breath while I feel light grains of something hitting my fur.

I catch the scent of herbs and spice. It would make a nice sachet, but I'm not thrilled about wearing it around for any period of time. I smell like my mother's underwear drawer.

Natalie says, "Done," and Gillian pulls the bag off my head. Man, am I glad to see her. Cat winds around her legs, rubbing his head against her in gratitude. When she says, "Let me just throw this blanket over you so you can shift now that that's taken care of," I am more than happy to say my magic words beneath it.

When the shift is over, I scramble up from beneath the blanket, managing to affix it around my waist without flashing everyone.

I look around at them. Natalie is close at hand with her red purse. She's not wearing either a tribal ensemble or a cheerleader sweater, just a fitted pantsuit, her usual attire. Too bad.

Robert leans against the side of his SUV only a few feet away. "If everyone's ready to go?" he says, inclining his head toward the car.

We all pile in.

Once I'm situated alone on the farthest seat in the back, I ask, "How did you find me if you couldn't do a location spell?"

Robert calls back over his shoulder as he starts the car. "That part was easy. I called down to the station and had them ping your cell. There are definite advantages to being mayor. Gave us a good indication of where you'd be. No magic needed."

Gillian adds, "Since we couldn't find you in the open, we started looking for all the hiding places. I almost moved on, but then I got the idea to give you a call even if you couldn't answer."

Yes. That's Gilly. She never gives up on anybody.

When we get back to Robert's, he has a message from his Egyptologist friend. "You might as well all be in on this call," he says, as he dials and then puts it on speaker while we settle in together on the comfortable leather sofa and chairs in the study.

"Robert?" comes a voice on the other end of the line. "Those pictures you sent me? Fascinating. I can't stop studying them. Can you arrange for me to see the artifact? I desperately want to see it in person."

"I can ask, Doug. But I don't know if the owner is open to viewings yet. I'll certainly do my best."

"Perfect—yes. They've found a truly unique item. One that, as far as I can tell, until now, was only a rumor with the intact heart and all. Fascinating stories behind this—"

Nat leans forward abruptly and cuts him off. "No need to be a showboat. Tell us what the symbols on the box mean."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. Robert gives Nat a cautioning look and says, "Sorry about that, Doug. The owner is here this morning and asked to sit in silently. You're on speaker."

"Of course, of course. My excitement over the find is running away with me."

Robert picks up the phone then, giving Nat a pointed look. "My client, while a dear friend, is elderly and can sometimes be abrasive. We can continue without an audience. She's absolutely contrite now. Speaker's off…" He walks to the corner of the large room and leans against one of the dark wood shelves as he talks.

We hear the rest of the conversation one-sided. Way to go, Nat. There are lots of yesses and hmmmms and notes jotted down on the lined yellow paper Robert took with him and balances on a shelf. By the time he's done, I'm ready to tell Doug to get on with it myself.

Finally, Robert presses the off button on the phone after saying, "Thanks, Doug. Yes, it's all invaluable information. I can't thank you enough. I'll see what I can do about that viewing."

He doesn't even have the phone back in the cradle before Nat says, "Well? Details!"

"Nat!" I say. "Give the man time to arrange his thoughts."
But it better not take more than 6.3 seconds
.

Robert raises his eyebrows slightly in acknowledgement. "Doug managed to interpret all of the symbols inside the box, and as we expected, its purpose is as a vessel for Anat's soul. Now, understand that he's fascinated by this as a historian because he has no idea that anything supernatural exists. He views it as mythology, ancient religious practice. I've never told him I'm a warlock. That tends to be a relationship killer the farther you get away from Salem and Giles. His interpretation is going to be colored by academic interest in what he believes is an antiquity. And obviously, he'd really like to get his hands on it for further study."

Nat breaks in. "Who cares about this? Stick to the point. Our time to help that nice young girl that you all seem to care so much about is running out. What does the writing on the box mean?" I have to say I appreciate her impatience on this.

Robert continues, unruffled. "Doug says the heart is a placeholder. The text indicates the box provides a resting place for Anat's soul to prevent her from continuing on to the next world. And as long as her heart remains in the box, it will always call her back from where she is if she becomes disembodied."

"Okay, so why is that such a big thing?" I ask.

"Because we now know that we can destroy the heart once she's out of Cassie and that will end her interference. As to the second box—what we didn't know is that there was a tomb robbery in Egypt recently. The date coincides with when 'Cassie' was out of town. And the only thing that was taken from a tomb full of priceless artifacts was…" Robert pauses, taking a deep breath.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Robert," Nat interjects, "leave out the drama! This isn't a movie of the week."

He responds with his usual patience. "Do you want to hear this, or do you just want to complain?"

"Yes, Nat, just shush, please." Gilly gives her a cautioning look.

"The only thing that was taken, as I was saying before I was interrupted, was the mummy's heart. Just that. The tomb-robber extracted the heart and left everything else alone. The guards who were posted at the entrance to the tomb are still missing. It's all the talk in the archaeological community, but it's not the kind of thing that hits the world news."

"No video surveillance?"

"I asked. Apparently not. The tomb is several hours into the desert. It's isolated. With two armed guards posted at the only entrance, it probably seemed unnecessary."

"And you think this was Eunice or Anat or whoever she is? She went to Egypt to bring back a mummy's heart?" Gillian asks.

"Yes, I believe we should consider it the most likely scenario. Doug says the symbols on the sarcophagus there picture Ba'al with his sisters, Anat and Ashtarte. The face in the large image at the head of the sarcophagus matches exactly with the face of the god Ba'al depicted with his sisters in various erotic and non-erotic poses on the walls of the tomb."

"Well, that's what the second box was made for then, the hot one, the one that burned me when I tried to take it."

"Perhaps. I'd think so, at least. Protecting itself, possibly," Robert agrees.

Gillian turns to me, her voice soft. "Tom, if she's this ready now to go ahead with what she planned…"

"Like hell!" I explode. "This body is not playing host to a parasitic god."

Gillian reaches over and lays a gentle hand on my knee. "Of course not. Not if this circle of witches has anything to say about it. You're right about that."

It's the only time they agree with each other all day, but Natalie and Robert add their voices to the supportive chorus. I'm not so sure any of it will do any good, but by the Goddess, at least I'll go down fighting.

I still can't sniff out a trace of Tom with any of my best locating spells. Damn him!

The crystal globe hits the wall heavily, rattling the paintings on the walls, then falls with a unsatisfying thud to the carpeted floor of the parlor. I expected it to shatter when I flung it away from me. It should have shown me at least a flicker of Tom when I anointed it with the last smear of the ride-along potion I soaked up from the bottom of the bottle. But its interior stayed blank and clear and unhelpful.

Someone must be helping him. He couldn't hide from me by himself. When I find out who's done this thing, that witch will have nowhere to hide. How dare these creatures continue to interfere?

I know he isn't dead. He can't be. He's the perfect vessel, and it would be too ironic if he'd met his end just as his true usefulness to me was coming to be. No, he's alive. Someone has shielded him from me. It has to be Gillian. She had his hair on her couch, after all.

I walk across the room, pick up the globe, and set it on the table. Then I glare at it until it shatters with a satisfying crack. The lumps of fractured crystal fall in a pile onto the tabletop.

"There, that's what happens to those who defy me."

I pick up the phone. It's time for the coven to mobilize and help me out.

I move purposefully toward the witches standing in the clearing in the middle of Corey Woods. Some of them look dazed; none of them talk to any of the others. My command gave them one purpose—to wait in the place they'd been called to. To wait for their Goddess to arrive.

"Around me. Make a circle. Quickly."

They scurry like mice until they form a loose circle with me at their center.